Persistance of Vision 2: Blindsided
by BinaryTales
Summary: A disasterous dinner party leads to an epic night of drinking for Roy—and Ed begins to realize that being Roy’s alchemy partner means facing Roy’s demons as well as his triumphs


Persistence of Vision 2: Blindsided

(A Sequel to "Eyes of the Heart")

By binaryalchemist

Rating : PG 13 for language

Genre: Genfic, some angst, and an ambiguous reference to an ambiguous friendship in the manga—at least ambiguous to some of us…hurt/comfort…sort of…

A disasterous dinner party leads to an epic night of drinking for Roy—and Ed begins to realize that being Roy's alchemy partner means facing Roy's demons as well as his triumphs

_Roy kept himself in forward motion—obsessively so at times—because his mind would not allow him to look back. Looking back was falling off into a dark place in his mind—darker even than the world he was learning to navigate by touch and sound and scent._

Havoc meant well. He just wasn't thinking. That's the long and short of it.

The Chief had always liked his brandy. This stuff from Drachma was…shit, it could knock a fellow's dick in the dirt if he didn't handle it with care. He just…well..his intentions were the best.

It just didn't turn out that way…

Ed didn't know about Roy's drinking, other than that oblique reference to drinking himself to death as an escape from his blindness—something he stated firmly was something he refused to do. He'd kept focused on the future. He wasn't one to wallow in self pity. There wasn't time for it. He kept himself in forward motion—obsessively so at times—because his mind would not allow him to look back. Looking back was falling off into a dark place in his mind—darker even than the world he was learning to navigate by touch and sound and scent.

Looking back meant _Ishbal_. And _Maes._

The sick feeling that washed over him when they told him his parents had died. That's why he understood Ed's reckless obsession to bring Trisha Elric back to life. Hell, if he'd known enough alchemy as a child, he'd have probably done the same damn thing and with worse results.

_Havoc_. Sure, the wheelchair was a thing of the past, but—wasn't it his fault in the end? He'd failed a trusted subordinate.

_Hawkeye_. He'd been charged to watch out for her. He'd have done anything for his master. It was a duty he shouldered with no qualms. But if it hadn't been for him and his grand talk of making Amestris a better world, would she have enlisted? Would her hands be free of the blood of those she picked off with such meticulous skill?

And would she be nursing a wounded heart and injured pride if he'd noticed her obsession and discreetly defused the situation from the start?

And…_Gracia_. He'd avoided her since…since Maes…There were things she wouldn't understand...things Maes himself didn't understand. Things that should have been talked over…maybe. Things that made Roy sit alone in the dark and drink, now and again knuckling the moisture from his eyes at old memories that Maes had neatly folded up and laid away in a box of memories from younger days.

He could not see the slight frown on Ed's face as he handed Roy Havoc's gift. His fingers told him nothing about origin or vintage as they swept over the bottle. "Thanks. Leave it on the tray beside my coffee press. I'll save it for a special occasion."

Ed went downstairs as Roy dressed for dinner. His tie felt straight. He combed his hair obsessively to make sure it was neat enough, not that Dia or Arthen would notice but their guests would. Dia's friends had brought her a new dress for the occasion—"there's a raised brocade pattern I can feel with my fingers—feels lovely!", and Arthen would wear his military uniform "right up 'til they make me sign the papers mustering me out". Roy had invited no one other than Ed. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his former subordinates…no…his _friends_. It would be great to challenge Breda to a match with the fine set he'd sent as a gift—raised squares of matte and smooth squares and chessmen that made it so easy to play by touch, the board vivid in his mind. Kain had given him an elegant Braille stylus of ebony and a brushed steel Braille slate and Hawkeye had given him a fine leash and collar with Braille tags and ID for Captain, the young Cretan Shepherd that had been chosen for his guide dog. He'd not yet been introduced to the animal but had spoken to Captain's foster father and been told that the dog was exceptionally bright, good natured and 'roughly the size of a small horse with an appetite to match'. The final phase of his training would begin when he and his classmates were introduced to their new canine partners.

At the stroke of six Arthen rapped at his door. "C'mon, Roy! Time to make our grand entrance!" As they had practiced, each man took one of Dia's arms and they would head down the steps together. Dia counted off the steps from Roy's door to the head of the stairs. They paused, oriented themselves, and with Dia counting under her breath they navigated to the ground floor without stumbling. "Beautiful job, you three," Kellar told them. Ladies and gentlemen, our team has arrived. Dia? Chef Chirak and your sister Dayonne are here. Arthen? Your parents are here and judging from those smiles they're very glad to see you. Roy—Ed's here, of course…and so is your Aunt Chris."

Roy _froze_.

He'd never told her a word about losing his sight. He'd had Ed send a telegram letting her know it was safe to return to Amestris and that he was well.

Shit. She'd beat his ass for this. She'd—

"Roy-boy…." A plump hand, a ring on every finger, reached up and captured his own, guiding it to a full, soft face, slightly greasy with cosmetics. He could smell perfume and cigarettes on her breath. "You're not too big to spank."

And then her arms folded tightly around him for the first time since he came back from the war. "You little bastard," she whispered in his ear. "You should have told me. _You should have told me_."

Behind him, Ed sounded like he'd been caught in the middle of some embarrassing act, like picking his nose or abusing himself. "Ummm…yeah…Roy…Ahhh…I was going to _explain_ that to you…"

_"_Skip it_—OwwwSHIT!!"_ A set of ringed knuckles rapped him sharply on the top of his head.

"He was being nice. And you watch your goddamn mouth, Roy Mustang or I'll wash it out for you. Now be a gentleman and walk me to my seat!"

Which he did, slowly and carefully, even pulling out her chair for her. _Damn you, Ed…damn you for sticking your nose in this…this wasn't the way I wanted her to find out.._

Turned out that Chirak and Madame Christmas knew one another very well—they used the same black market dealer for rare Drachman spirits and wine from Aerugo. She had dined at Dia's restaurant and complimented her for 'the best goddamned oysters anyone's ever smuggled across the border from Creta. Sorry to hear it got bought out by Christophe De Canard last month."

There was an awkward pause. "Over my dead body. Pass the wine." Ed could see that Dia's features remained composed but the hand that lifted the glass to her lips was shaking badly.

Arthen's father remembered Roy from East City and the war. "Never thought I'd be having dinner with a living legend—Son, you have no idea how many soldiers he saved from those Ishballan bastards. The way he used to blow up whole cities with---"

"—anybody for seconds on the that roast duck thingamajig, or can I eat it all myself?" Ed broke in. Roy folded his napkin and shook his head, drawing back slightly from the table.

"—you missed the glory days, son! Shame you'll never get back in the service—oh, and I need to take that uniform back when we go. Got your discharge papers in your mom's purse—"

"Roy, I---"

"_Goodnight, Fullmetal._ We'll talk in the morning. Make sure Aunt Chris makes it safely back to her hotel."

The door slammed shut inches from Ed's scowl. "Shit…I thought she knew…why the hell didn't he tell her already?"

""Wh..who is it?"

"It's me." The voice was slightly slurred. "What'reya doing down here alone?"

"Raiding the pantry. I'd kill for some really good chocolate."

There was a sloshing sound. "Howzabout some really good booze?"

"Roy…are you drunk?"

A low snicker. "Not as drunk as I wanna be. An' a lady shouldn't drink alone."

A cabinet—the one below the sink---slammed shut. Roy heard a sniffle and then a long sigh. "Well, it beats the hell out of cooking sherry. Got glasses?"

"Fuck the glasses. Where are you?"

He heard her slap at the counters. "Uh…shit. That's the stove on the right, behind me. You near the door?"

"Yeah."

"_Me too." _It was Arthen, behind him. "Who to I have to shoot t'get a goddamn beer in this joint?"

"Huh…I guess this is what they call bein' _blind drunk_." Arthen fumbled in his pocket. "Shit. I wanna cigar."

Roy let the rich liquid fire slip over his tongue and down into his belly. "High as th' proof is, you'd blow your face off."

"Or set us all on fire. Better not smoke without Kellar around," Dia agreed. "Wonderful stuff. Your aunt brought this?"

"My Second Lieu—my _friend_, Jean. Told Ed he'd get hauled to the brig for smugglin' this to me."

"You got good friends, there, Roy. Damn good." Arthen tipped back the bottle and swallowed deeply. "Ed, fer instance. Kinda ornery around the edges but seems like a good guy to partner with."

Roy grumbled under his breath and sighed. "Goddamn mouth on him. Never wanted Aunt Chris to…aw, fuck it…just fuck it…"

Arthen whistled softly. "You didn't tell her about your eyes?"

Silence.

"Roy?"

"I don't want her pity. And I don't want her fussing over me."

They drank in silence for a bit. "Doesn't seem like the pitying type to me," Dia observed. "Seems like you got a lot of that stubbornness from her. You always sell your friends short, Roy?"

Mustang snickered. "Only Ed—an' thass 'cause he can walk under my elbows without bumping his head."

"_Who the fu—mmgghlfff!!" _A hand clapped over Ed's mouth as he was pulled out of the hall and into the classroom.

"Settle down, Ed." Sam Kellar cautiously moved his hand away. "He's drunk. Let it pass."

Ed stared up at the teacher incredulously. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing." He gestured for Ed to follow him out into the pre-dawn darkness. The air was coolish and thick with the scent of roses. The strolled for awhile, Ed fuming in the silence, shooting angry glances towards the main building.

Finally they reached the small reflection pond, where Kellar gestured towards the gazebo. "Did Roy tell you about his trip to the infirmary two months ago?"

"Huh?" Ed looked concerned. "He didn't tell me shit."

"Couldn't sleep, so I came out here to sit and watch the stars. Good place to sit and think things over. And if I hadn't been here, Roy might have drowned."

Ed felt sick at his stomach. "Wha—how did..?"

"Things…just got to be too much. Guilt. Anger. You've lost your parents—you know how things can eat at you in the middle of the night."

"No shit," Ed nodded. "So what happened?"

"Roy wouldn't talk about it to anybody. Got drunk and depressed. Wandered out here on his own. Fell off the walkway. Right into the pond, which was iced over. I heard him cursing and struggling and pulled him out. He'd split his scalp and needed a few stitches. That's when I took him out of the original class and put him in with Dia and Arthen."

"What—why them? I mean, they seem like decent people, but they haven't gone through anything like Roy has."

Kellar glanced back towards the main building, an odd, fond look on his face. "Dia was married when she found she was losing her sight. _Was_, that is. Her husband had no interest in caring for a handicapped wife. Not only did he run off, when her father died he tried to sue her for a share in the restaurant. And soon as she came here her brother and sister bought out her shares in the restaurant. She's lost it and she knows it. That was all she had left, Ed. And Arthen was an Army brat who spent his whole life planning to be an officer. He kept thinking there was a way—maybe through Alchemy—that he might be able to see at least partially. He held on to that uniform with all his might. Tonight he lost it. He's still got his music, but it's not much comfort to him now. No, Ed," Kellar sighed, "those three had lost everything. They were my highest risks for failure. Any one of them could potentially give up. I knew…I _knew_…if I let them work it out together, they'd not only make it, they'd excel. Roy's a natural leader. Arthen keeps their spirits up. And Dia's a damn good listener and will sit up all night with either one of them when it gets bad for them, even if all she does is share the silence with them."

"So…you mean this has happened before?" Ed asked softly.

"And will happen again. Ed, they're only human. Roy's going to have good days ahead for him—great days. I have great hopes for him. But he's also going to have some very terrible nights. And that's where you come in, Ed."

Ed thought about those horrible nights when all he could dream of was digging up that grave in the back yard, or seeing Al dissolve before his eyes, screaming piteously for his older brother to save him. Nights like that, he had Alphonse to keep him sane. And Roy? Who the hell did Roy have, other than—

"—me. Yeah. I…I see it. "

"You can be his partner in Alchemy…our you can be his friend who also happens to share that journey. What do you say, Fullmetal? Are you up for it?"

"Hey."

"Heyyyyy. Fullmetal. Whatcha doin' down here? You wanna drink?"

"Nah. I'm good. You comfortable or you wanna go upstairs to bed?"

"Don' think I c'n make it. Not without bustin' my ass."

"Figured that, so…_here_." A pillow slid under Roy's soon-to-be-aching head,, an afghan tucked around him. "Dia and Arthen are on the other couch and the chair. Got blankets and pillows for them too."

"Thanks."

"You wanna eat something before you pass out?"

"Shit, don't even _mention_ food."

"Too bad. Kellar says he's making scrambled eggs for breakfast—and I'm gonna make you clean your plate."

"You do and I'll puke on your boots."

There was a faint rustling sound and the creak of floorboards under the carpet and then a sigh. "Ed? What are you doing?"

"Sacking out on the rug." Pause. "In case you decide to go for another midnight swim."

Roy turned over and buried his face into the sofa cushions. "Go to hell, Ed," he chuckled softly.

"Goodnight to you too, asshole."

To Be Continued….


End file.
